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I heard the first distant strains of a siren. I pricked up my ears and returned my attention to the dark and rainy street. The siren grew louder. It drew closer. I could feel Victoria looking pointedly at me. I raised my clammy palm, hushing her before she began. There was more than one siren. I was sure of it now. The keening was dissonant and out of time. It merged into one long wail.
    Victoria lowered her phone. She turned in her seat and stared out through the window, tracking my gaze.
    “What’s happening?” she asked, white-faced. “Did somebody see you?”
    “More like the other way around,” I told her. “And keep your voice down, can’t you?”
    The young guy behind the counter and the woman had stopped talking. They’d turned their heads in the direction of the sirens.
    Victoria huddled over the table toward me. “Are they coming here for you?” she asked, in a strained voice.
    “Nope,” I whispered back. “I’m the one who called them.”
    “You? Are you mad?”
    I shrugged. “Like you said, I’m an idiot.”
    I stubbed out my cigarette as the vehicles the sirens were attached to careened around the corner at the end of the street. The shrieking din made me shudder. Occupational hazard. Emergency sirens always have that effect on me.
    There were two cars and a van. The cars were silver hatchbacks with green flashes along the side and blue lights on top. The word Polizei was branded on them. The van was bright orange, with tinted windows. It was an ambulance. Blue bulbs popped and flashed and twirled on its roof.
    The vehicles slewed to a halt in the middle of the slickened road. Doors opened. Men and women emerged into the rain. The police were wearing blue uniforms and peaked caps, their trousers tucked into heavy black boots. The ambulance crew sported red jumpsuits with reflective strips. There were two of them and they ran around to the rear of the van and hauled open the cargo doors. They removed a stretcher on collapsible legs and wheels, and hurried away through the puddles in the direction of the apartment building.
    But I wasn’t focused on them. I was looking up through the rain and the pulsing blue lights at the second-floor window. The light behind the blind had gone out. The guy must have heard the sirens approaching. He must have guessed they were coming for him.
    “Will you please tell me what’s going on?” Victoria hissed.
    I hesitated. The guy from the bar and his companion had moved across to stand by the door. They were paying close attention to events out on the street, but I was pretty sure the noise of the wind and the rain would mask anything I might say.
    I watched the police and the ambulance crew hurry inside the building, and then I spoke to Victoria from the corner of my mouth, my voice hushed, eyes fixed on the darkened apartment window. I gave her the short version. It was enough to bring her up to speed.
    “My God,” she cried, when I was finished. “Do you really think she’s dead?”
    “I don’t know, Vic. I hope not.”
    But really, I didn’t believe that she had a chance. How long could it take to strangle a person? Two, maybe three minutes? Perhaps a lot less. The guy had gotten started before I’d even spotted them. And then there was the delay while I made the call. The wait for the emergency services to arrive.
    “You did the right thing,” Victoria assured me.
    I didn’t say anything to that. Part of me wished that I was a better person. That I’d intervened directly. And part of me wished that I was a lot more ruthless. By contacting the police, I’d compromised myself and my assignment.
    “Did you find what Freddy was looking for?” Victoria asked.
    I shook my head and fired up another cigarette. I would have felt a lot better if I’d found the mysterious item. Yes, it would have meant less money for me, but less trouble, too. If the police traced my call, they’d be likely to contact Daniel Wood, because they’d assume that he was